


Exactly where you want to be

by hopelessly_me



Category: Marvel
Genre: Clint and his vents, I love their bromance stage, M/M, Upset Bucky, a wee bit angsty, awkward Clint, awkward first kiss, bed sharing, hopeful boys, hunt Clint, pre-dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:34:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23699359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopelessly_me/pseuds/hopelessly_me
Summary: Bucky thought he had read all the signs correctly when he kissed Clint for the first time, but he was clearly wrong. After a week with no communication, Bucky knew exactly how to interpret Clint's feelings; that was until Clint came tumbling out of the ceiling.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Comments: 22
Kudos: 167





	Exactly where you want to be

Bucky was used to being alone. He almost preferred to be alone. Being alone meant no one had to deal with his mood swings, or the nightmares. Being alone was something Bucky found to be safe, and safe was something he was still trying to get used to. He was learning that he didn’t need to grab a knife or gun every time he was startled awake, or anytime someone knocked on his door.

Steve had been a huge help, naturally, but he was also part of the problem. Steve wanted to talk things through, wanted to help in ways Bucky wasn’t comfortable with quite yet. Natasha tended to stay quiet around him, still trying to get a feel for the unfamiliar, yet eerily familiar assassin, which Bucky completely understood. Tony was… loud, just like Thor. Sam was okay but an ass. And Bruce was dealing with his own issues, so Bucky tended to steer clear of him.

Then there was Clint. Bucky had been confused by the archer, with all his quirks and odd behaviors. He was a constant throughout the Tower, either in the various gyms, lounging on the communal floor, or sleeping up in the vents, and with the habit of sneaking up on people at the worst of times. Bucky couldn’t tell how many times he had been surprised by the archer, and was thankful that Clint was skilled enough not to get stabbed, minus that  _ one _ time. 

But overtime, those surprise encounters became more predictable and comfortable. Bucky knew where he could find Clint based on the time of the day and what type of mission he had been sent on through S.H.I.E.L.D. He knew when Natasha wasn’t home and Clint had just gotten back, Clint tended to be in his room or in the vents. If he was injured and Natasha  _ was _ home, Clint tended to stay on the communal floor, sleeping his day away on the couch where multiple members of the Avengers roster would come by to check on him, refilling his coffee or make new. On the good days, Clint would sit there and talk about seemingly random things with Bucky, sprawled out in what Bucky once thought was an obnoxious showcase of his height until Bucky realized just how leggy Clint was and he  _ had _ to sprawl in some of those cases. On other days he would challenge Bucky to games- cards, out on the gym floors, and the one time it was a water gun fight, which Bucky figured was due to Clint wanting, or needing, to stay busy.

It wasn’t until two months later that Bucky realized just how close he had allowed Clint to get, how woven into his life he had become. It hit him like a brick when he was having a bad day and instead of seeking out Steve for some time in the gym, he was halfway to Clint’s floor. He put the brakes on the elevator and headed straight to Steve in a panic. When he mentioned how he felt about it to Steve, the man had the nerve to smile and shrug while informing Bucky “the guy has a way of making people comfortable”- no man that is a trained assassin should be that  _ good _ at making people feel comfortable. 

Bucky withdrew himself immediately, doing everything in his power to avoid Clint. The feeling of safety had flipped to the “danger” setting, where he felt the need to be careful again. It took two days, but Clint had gotten the hint and stopped reaching out. It had taken all of a week for the loneliness to creep back in, unsettling him enough that he craved the easy affection Clint was willing to give. Without asking any questions, Clint just shot Bucky a grin and welcomed him back as if nothing happened, and everything slowly started feeling safe again.

The best part was, Clint didn’t seem awkward in different situations, like he knew all the hiccups. Bucky’s moods would flux throughout the week a lot, which made making plans sometimes a challenge. There was a particular day where Bucky had made plans with Clint to go sightseeing but didn’t quite feel like putting in the effort for anything more than lounging on the couch; he was having a day where everything felt painfully uncomfortable. Clint had made himself at home, even while Bucky felt like he was crawling in his own skin. When he confronted Clint about it later, asking if there was anywhere he would rather be, Clint just smiled and replied that he was exactly where he wanted to be. Bucky felt a little bit of darkness lift from his mood.  _ He wants to be here _ .

Sniper bros- that’s what Clint called them. Bucky wasn’t sure he liked the term, but Clint declared it so with that infectious smile, holding a burrito and waving his arms as he talked; Bucky felt like maybe he could get used to the term. And being part of a team like that made everything a lot easier. Bucky could count at least five instances now where he hadn’t caught something going on before Clint had taken down the threat. Each time, Clint would give a nod from his perch and whisper  _ sniper bros be snippin’  _ into the comm line, and it would bring a smile to Bucky’s face.

Then Bucky had to go and ruin it all. He thought it was a seemingly normal day- Clint was in one of his good moods. He had pulled a prank on Steve earlier in the day, which had been beautiful to witness because Steve was stuttering, he was so mad. Clint had that lazy smile on his face as he was read the riot act, not a tense muscle in his body. And when Bucky caught his eyes, Clint winked.  _ He fuckin’ winked _ . Steve caught what was happening, looking between the two, and somehow that turned into Bucky being dragged into the speech of being responsible, and what was funny versus what wasn’t. 

When Steve finally left, Clint stretched and offered up an evening out, undercover and see if they can get do something dumb outside the watchful eye of “Captain Fussy Pants”. Bucky knew he should have said no, but Clint had this power over him that practically made it impossible. He had that brighter than the sun smile, his eyes expressive and wide from excitement and was declaring the day the best day of his life. In all fairness, any day where Clint didn’t end up in medical he would declare it as the best day in his life, and Bucky worried about Clint’s low expectations in life.

The night wasn’t even that eventful. They found a bar that had pool tables, dart boards, and was relatively slow, and they called it home for the night. When Bucky asked if this was the place, Clint said this was exactly where he wanted to be. They argued over sports, because  _ of course _ Bucky had the worst taste in baseball teams, just like Steve. And Bucky joked that liking the Vikings solely because purple was a part of their colors was a shit reason to like a team. Clint and Bucky were neck and neck in darts, which was exactly how Bucky thought the night would go.

By the time they were leaving, it was well past midnight and they were walking slowly back to the Tower. Bucky couldn’t speak for Clint, but he certainly wasn’t ready for their night out to be over. Clint was still going on about the dog they had run into, waving his arms dramatically as he proclaimed his love for it. Bucky was caught up in the moments where the neon signs and the wet pavement reflected in Clint’s eyes, the way it made his wild hair have more shadows, making it more dramatic. He was caught up in all the little ways Clint made him feel like better, made him feel like his days were becoming tolerable and that maybe Steve was right- it was just Bucky holding himself back.

Maybe he read the moment wrong, read Clint wrong- but Bucky stepped closer and caught Clint’s jaw first before his lips. After a moment it was clear that Clint had come to a screeching halt and didn’t make a single move. There was no protesting, no shoving, but there wasn’t a return in the gesture. It was embarrassing when Bucky looked up at this deer in the headlight eyes, and all the safety he had felt around Clint dissolved in an instant. Bucky turned and walked, hoping like hell Clint didn’t make this more awkward by wanting to talk.

They walked in silence the whole way back. Bucky didn’t bother to check to see if Clint was following, he just assumed he was. So when Bucky got back to the Tower without Clint behind him, he figured that was a clear indication on how Clint felt. It stung worse than Bucky was prepared to deal with. He wanted to scream and shout, but instead he swallowed back those emotions like he always had before and kept them tucked away as deep as he could.

Bucky had texted Clint the next day, asking if maybe they could talk, if he could come over, but didn’t get a reply. No one had any idea where Clint was, and the only one who could have known was out on a mission. So Bucky was back to being alone. And that was  _ fine _ . He deserved to be alone after everything. But it didn’t have to bury itself under his skin the way it was.

After a week, Bucky wasn’t sure if he should be more worried that Clint never got back to anyone, or insulted that Clint didn’t have the decency to get back to him. Bucky was in bed and staring up at the ceiling when he heard a familiar noise above him, somewhere from the living room. Bucky figured it was just his ears playing tricks on him, that somewhere in his subconscious his mind was telling him that he really wanted Clint to be here. But the noise was only getting closer until it was no longer a question on if he was hearing it, but  _ why _ . There was a clank above the bed, followed by a string of swear words in three different languages, before the ceiling popped off and Clint came tumbling out in the most ungraceful manner.

Bucky turned the lights on and the two stared at each other. Bucky looked at the purple cast on his arm and the various bruises littering his face and arms, and a large bandage wrapped around his head. He wanted to yell at Clint for taking the vents to get to his room, but there was a look of desperation in his eyes that pulled him back from snarling at the blond.

“What are you doing here?” Bucky asked carefully.

“You asked me to come,” Clint answered, his voice weak and nervous.

“That was a week ago,” Bucky said.

Clint was the first to look away, looking at the hem of his shirt, his fingers tangled in the fabric. “Been a long week,” he mumbled. “Can I… maybe stay here tonight?” he asked, his eyes flickering up. “Nat… she’s still out.”

Bucky couldn’t believe what he heard and sat in silence for a minute. Clint glanced up at Bucky nervously before he looked back down at his mix matched socks. Clint was there and had sought Bucky out for some level of comfort. If Clint had been on a mission, and Natasha wasn’t here, he should be by himself, that’s what past practice always showed. He felt hopeful on what that could imply, but he wasn’t going to assume too much.  _ He wants to be here? _

“I don’t want to hurt you if I wake up from a nightmare.”

“Can’t hurt me too much more than I already am,” Clint answered. Bucky looked at Clint from head to toe. “Nevermind, I can go. Take the hint. I’m sorry for-”

“Come on,” Bucky said, getting up. “What happened to you?” he asked, pulling his blanket off the bed and wrapping it securely around Clint’s shoulders.

“Just… mission stuff,” Clint answered vaguely. 

“Just mission stuff,” Bucky repeated before herding him to the bed. “Alright, well, you need to lay down. You look dead on your feet. Do you need water or anything?” Clint shook his head. “Alright,” Bucky said before grabbing another blanket and laying down on the other side of the bed.

“I… should warn you,” Clint said softly. “I kinda, uh, cuddle when I sleep. And snore.”

“I think I can survive,” Bucky answered.

“And I won’t be able to hear you.”

“I am familiar with the fact that you are deaf.” Clint mumbled something under his breath. “I’m not deaf, but you might want to try that again.”

“I said… I said thank you,” Clint sighed. He unwrapped himself and Bucky thought about stopping him before he watched Clint fiddle with his hearing aids. “Do you actually want me here?” he asked nervously. His eyes flickered back down to the blanket and his hands pulled it in tighter. “Because I can leave. I don’t want to make this uncomfortable.”

“Do you want to be here?” Bucky asked.

Clint looked back up with an awkward smile, almost looking relieved. “I’m exactly where I want to be,” he answered genuinely. “I think we need to talk tomorrow though.” Bucky nodded and looked away. “Because I should have caught up to you and kissed you, but I just- I made a mistake and then I wasn’t able to get back to you.” Clint was pulling the blanket up to cover his face until only his eyes and some blond hair was visible.

Bucky felt his heart soar.  _ He wants to be here. He wants to be with me _ . It was a feeling he hadn’t had in a very long time, and he was afraid for a moment that maybe he had heard the conversation all wrong. He watched Clint’s face, trying to find any signs of him lying.

Clint reached a hand out from under the blanket and touched Bucky’s jaw lightly. “Tomorrow?” he asked.

“I’ve got nowhere else to be,” Bucky agreed.

Clint poked his head out from the blankets, taking his hearing aids out. Bucky offered up a hand and took them, setting them on the nightstand. It was only a few minutes for Clint to be fast asleep. Bucky took a few minutes to study his face, feeling his lips twitch occasionally to a short lived smile.  _ He is exactly where he wants to be _ replayed in his head a few times. Clint rolled over, his body pressed against Bucky’s and his nose grazing the top of his shoulder.  _ I am exactly where I want to be, too _ he thought as he closed his eyes.


End file.
